The Maidens Death. 397 



orations, and to that broad share of liberty which the French nation 

 has the right of demanding and of obtaining through its representa- 

 tives; and let the government be either in the perfidious hands of the 

 present Mahmoud or of any other despot of his bastard race, the 

 liberal party, the party of civil and religious liberty, the party of 

 equal justice and equal rights, the party of economy, civilization, 

 and national glory and independence, must ultimately triumph in 

 that country. 



THE MAIDEN'S DEATH. 



Ir was a calm and a tranquil night 



Of the early summer time ; 

 The sky ne'er smil'd on a fairer eve 



Since the hours of Earth's first prime. 



The sun had set, and the last faint streak 



Had pass'd from the heavens away, 

 And the evening- star, like a spirit of love, 



Walk'd on her radiant way. 



Now dropt the dew on the flowers of night 



That ope when the day is done ; 

 And send forth the sweets when the moonbeams play. 



In place of the burning sun. 



The maiden roam'd where the river flows 



In its silver course along ; 

 And murmurs on through the quiet vale 



With a sound like a low sweet song. 



Her soft blue eye and her raven hair 



Seem'd scarce of earth below, 

 But as though she came from a higher sphere, 



And long'd to her home to go. 



She sat by the side of the whisp'ring stream, 



And watch' d the ripples dance ; 

 And her own light form seem'd floating down 



The wave in the moonbeam's glance. 



And the angels deem'd her all too pure 



For the shadows of earth to hide ; 

 And they thought of the shadowless dome of heaven 



Where the holy ones abide. 



And death came down in the evening dew, 



And he wrapped his mantle round her ; 

 And lingered, ere he left the spot 



Where his icy hand had bound her. 



She saw the sun in his bright array 



Sink down the purple west ; 

 And had gazed on the stars as they crested the night 



In their glorious orbits blest. 



And then on the wing of the midnight gale, 



As it sigh'd o'er the quiet river, 

 She was borne through the regions of ether far 



To the realms of day for ever. J. F. 



